


When the Comet Returns

by wonderfully_weird



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-02
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:01:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23442133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wonderfully_weird/pseuds/wonderfully_weird
Summary: In the weeks leading to the comet’s return, the lives of three people on different sides of the world begin to converge.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 3





	1. 115 Days Before the Comet Arrives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Korra receives an old friend...and bad news...

Yushi Valley, Meigui Prefecture, United Republic

Korra sat at the kitchen table, drinking tea, occasionally nibbling at her rice, sardine, and scrambled eggs. 

She read the newspaper in the light of a dreary mid morning, feeling surprised at the lack of relevant headlines, considering the goings on in the world. 

She listened to the rain pattering against the windows, as it was the only noise Korra noticed.

She sighed, running her fingers through her hair, then stroking the back of her neck. 

Korra kept drinking her tea.

Kept nibbling at her breakfast.

Kept reading.

Kept listening to the rain.

Then the doorbell rang. 

Korra wasn’t expecting anyone. Takako, though known for her surprise visits home, would just let herself in. And Yuka wasn’t due to be home from school for a couple more hours. Maybe a delivery? No, they usually knocked. Likely a solicitor. Or a salesperson. A conman? All options were as interchangeable as they were likely. 

The doorbell rang again.

Korra forced herself up from her seat. She opened the door, expecting the combination solicitor-salesperson-conman to greet her. But when Korra opened the door, she was greeted by—

“Pengfei?”

—the opposite of a salesperson-solicitor-conman. It was the ambassador to Bai Sha, the Northeastern-most hook of the former Earth Kingdom, sopping wet from standing in the rain.

“Goodness, what are you…? how long did it take…? Never mind! We’ll talk more inside. Oh! Right, um...uh...good morning.”

“Good morning, Avatar Korra,” the ambassador bowed, then took off his rain-soaked shoes before entering the house.

“Tea? A Towel?” Korra gestured that Pengfei follow her into the kitchen. “I have food too. Breakfast, maybe, I got a pot of rice hanging out in the cooker, I can make you eggs, fry up some sardines?”

“I’ll pass on food for now,” Pengfei said with a soft smile, “but a towel and tea would be lovely, thank you.”

Korra darted into the guest bathroom and tossed a towel at Pengfei. She then led him into the kitchen. Korra walked to the stove, pressed her hand under the tea kettle, and rapidly boiled the water, pouring it into a pot with fresh leaves.

“It’ll need some time to steep, about five, ten minutes?” Korra noted, setting a timer. “Please, Pengfei, sit.”

“It’s fine. Been doing a lot of sitting this morning. Standing feels pretty good actually!” Pengfei chuckled.

As they waited for the tea to steep, the two talked about how they had been doing…

_“How are you Pengfei?”_

_“Good! Tired, my stars. You?”_

_“Okay. Managing”_

...about their children...

“ _I heard Enlai, got engaged! How exciting! You and Wenling must be so proud.”_

_“We are. They’re a good pair. Their wedding is next summer, so lots of time to save, and to plan. How are your daughters, Korra?”_

_“Yuka started high school a month ago. She’s doing well, she’s happy, likes her teachers. Takako...I told you she dropped out of her graduate program?”_

“ _I didn’t—”_

_“It’s fine.”_

...their wives…

“ _Wenling okay?”_

_“Wenling is...Wenling. How’s Asami? Last you told me, she’s in the Fire Nation to…?”_

_“Classified.”_

_“Dammit!_

...their own friendship...

_“How long’ve we known each other now?”_

_“Gosh, almost twenty-five years?”_

_“We’re getting old, Pengfei.”_

  
Korra smiled, briefly. Then it faded, “why?”

“Why what?” Pengfei wanted to look away, averting his eyes from the Avatar’s gaze. His stalling could only last so long.

“Could this,” made a gesture, pointing at Pengfei, then herself, “have been a phone call?” 

Pengfei shook his head, “Not with the information I have. It’s too sensitive to have it travel over wire, to have it heard by operators. This is...” Pengfei looked at the phone against the wall, and unplugged it.

“Pengfei, what are you doing?” Korra scoffed.

“Taking precautions,” Pengfei said, dipping out of the kitchen to unplug any other phones or radios in the house. 

“Really? Going through _my_ house? _That’s_ necessary?”

Upon re-entering the kitchen, Pengfei stared at Korra, sternly.

Korra hesitated, then asked, “Is this the reason you’re out of a job?”

“Korra, let’s not jump to—”

“If you _were_ still an ambassador, you wouldn’t be in my kitchen at 10 o’clock in the morning, on a weekday, and on the opposite end of the country. Took the train?”

“Airplane, actually. Fastest way to reach you while the news was still fresh. It was a hassle getting a ticket so last-minute, but I managed,” Pengfei finally sat down next to Korra, then, after an uncomfortable pause, whispered in her ear, “They took Chameleon Bay.”

Korra looked at him, confused. 

Pengfei hesitated, “The Jades took hold of the city of Gangkou from the inside out. Which means they have the Bay. The rest of Bai Sha will shortly follow…It’s all a mess. Everything our operatives predicted would happen? We thought…”

Korra tuned Pengfei out. She was furious, frustrated, upset. The Jade Republic was a nuisance enough before their new Chair was “elected”. But since Rong Shi came to power...and enacted that ridiculous Proclamation of hers...

_I hate this…_

_“_ You said something, Korra?”

A pause. 

“Yeah. This _sucks_ ,” Pengfei said. “It’s okay to admit that.”

“Well no _shit_ this sucks!” Korra growled. “But it sucks because I...I could have could have prevented all of this!” Korra sighed, then continued, “If I _weren’t_ a total fool, Rong Shi would _never_ have come to power, 10,000 innocent people would still be _alive_ and another 100,000 would be accounted for and _fuck_ ! If I had the gull to listen to my intuition six months ago? The Jade Republic would still be an actual _republic_!

“That!” Korra rubbed her temples, “and…you’d be, I dunno, home? Celebrating your son’s engagement? Shit, you’d still have a fucking job, too...”

“Korra,” Pengfei said, calmly, “this isn’t your fault.”

“Isn’t it though?”

“Korra, please.”

“I knew that election was hijacked _before_ those ballots went missing. I shoulda taken that cunt out when I had—”

“That’s against the Xibei Accords, Korra—”

“Well _fuck_ the Accords!”

“Korra! You wrote them!”

“So what!”

“So what? Let world leaders do whatever they want, whenever they want, however they want? Without checks and balances? Without consequences? You wrote the Accords to prevent another Kuvira, another Unalaq! Another Sozin!”

“But Rong Shi gets to do whatever _she_ wants? Whenever she wants? However she wants? The longer we do nothing, she continues getting away with murdering, disappearing, and starving her people without as much as a slap on the wrist. And, shit, that’s the stuff we _know_ about! Gosh, if we’re letting her get away with all that, then the Accords are—”

“Chair Rong Shi has a price on your head!” 

Korra paused, too angry and too stunned to respond. Pengfei continued, “She has a price on _your_ head, the heads of _all_ world leaders, and _any_ person acting on behalf of the United League of Nations, which—I should remind you—the Jade Republic bowed out of two years ago. So, if you try going in there alone—”

“I’ll probably be killed on sight,” Korra said, bluntly.

The kitchen was thick with silence. Not even the rain could penetrate it. 

But the timer for the tea did.

Pengfei sighed, “Now more than ever, _Avatar_ , the world cannot afford to lose you. Not when we have a potential Sozin on our hands. My stars, with you... _out of the picture_...”

The term _neutral jin_ flashed through Korra’s mind. As much as she despised the thought, Korra knew there wasn’t much she could do. Except be patient. Wait for the right moment to strike. But the longer Korra waited...the more damage Rong Shi did...the more innocent people suffered... 

Korra rose from the kitchen table, brought some tea over to Pengfei, and again offered him rice, sardines, and scrambled eggs. 

She placed her hand atop the newspaper, knowing the information sprawled through those pages paled in comparison to the news she just heard.

Korra listened to the rain pattering against the windows, because she would rather hear _that_ than any more bad news.

She sighed, running her fingers through her hair, then stroking the back of her neck.

Korra didn’t drink her tea.

Or finish eating her breakfast.

She just tapped her fingers on the newspaper.

And kept listening to the rain.


	2. 112 Days Until the Comet Arrives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A young man has a very, very bad day
> 
> CW: Disease, Death, Drug Use

Hui Xi, Gom Province, Jade Republic  
  
  


Flashes of light clawed his eyes open. The thunder shot him out of bed. He jolted up, petrified, too shocked to even breathe.

_It’s just the weather_ , he reassured himself. _You’re safe._

Once the panic wore off, he slipped out of bed and into clothes set out on the chair the night before. 

He sauntered to the stove, and grabbed a pot to reheat the _jook_ he made a few days ago.

He filled a kettle with water, and set it on the stove to start boiling.

He sat back in bed, lit a cigarette, and took a deep, long drag.

He exhaled, his face now framed in smoke.

He kept looking between the stove and the ever shrinking cigarette between his fingers.

He sighed. He was not looking forward to what would come next.

~

The weather was dreadful, so the young man chose to take the bus.

While walking to the depot, he decided to drop by a flower shop.

He bought a bouquet of white flowers: irises, lilies, chrysanthemums.

He boarded the bus. It would be seven stops before getting where he needed to go.

~

  
The young man approached the front desk at the hospital.

“Hello, I’m,” he stammered, “here to see Beom-soo?”  
  


The receptionist glared at the young man, as she took out a binder and flipped through its pages.

  
“Family name? For Beom-soo?”

“Um...Cho,” the young man swallowed. 

The receptionist flipped through more pages.

“Sir...may I talk with you privately?”

~

The young man approached the mortician.

  
“Yes?” the mortician said to the young man.

“Um,” the young man shivered, clutching the bouquet a child would a blanket. “I’m...I’m here to...to claim Beom-soo Cho.”  
  


The mortician stroked his lip as he approached the young man, then asked, “Are you kin?”

  
“No, I,” the young man inhaled deeply, then said, “I’m an old friend. His family…”  
  


The young man averted the mortician’s gaze. The mortician _knew.  
  
_

“I _see_ ,” said the mortician condescendingly. “While you _technically_ can’t claim his body...as Mr. Cho had no next of kin…”  
  


The mortician gestured at the young man. _Take the body then._

~

“Hello? Nuan? You there? This a good time to call?”

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“I’m at the hospital.”

“And?”

“It’s...about…” the young man failed holding back his tears, “it’s about Beom-soo.”

“You’ll be...needing a car then?”

The young man waited, then said, “Yeah. That would be nice.”

~

“I can’t believe he just, like, gave us his body?” Nuan was the first to speak since leaving the hospital morgue. 

“He was such an ass about it, too,” the young man sighed.

  
“Oh? I missed something?” Nuan perked from the driver’s seat.

  
The young man was in the back, cradling Beom-soo’s body.

“You could say that,” the young man said, admiring Beom-soo’s pale, serene face. “A little before you came with the car? The mortician talked to me.”

“About?”

“ _Me_. Said he thought I seemed like a smart man. A moral man. And that…” the young man stroked a lock of hair from Beom-soo’s forehead, “if I were wise, I shouldn’t...I shouldn’t lead a life like Beom-soo did.”

  
Nuan pulled over to the side of the highway. 

“What did he mean by _that_?” Nuan gawked.

“We know _exactly_ what he meant by that,” the young man’s voice quivered, clutching Beom-soo’s body, pressing him tighter to his chest.

Nuan got back on the road. They had a long drive ahead of them.

~

Nuan parked the car near the side of the road, close to the nature reserve.

“You sure this is a smart idea?” Nuan looked back at the young man. 

“No,” he said, “but it’s what Beom-soo would have wanted.”

~

Even with the dreary skies, the surrounding landscape was still lush and vividly colored with intense greens, glowing yellows, spritely oranges, and rich purples. If only the sun were out.

“That's a good spot?” Nuan pointed to an oak tree with the bouquet of white flowers.

“Should be safe,” said the young man cradling thelifeless Beom-soo in his arms.

The sky darkened, and the rain gushed down. Just in time, the two friends shuffled under the boughs of the tree. 

Nuan, with her earth bending, pressed an opening into the ground at the tree’s base.   
  


The young man gave Beom-soo—the love of his life—one last look and a tender kiss on the forehead before laying him in earth.

“Beom-soo,” the young man shivered, “you were a brilliant man. A charming man. A beautiful man. A _good_ man. You didn’t deserve the life you got. The family you got. The illness...that...you got…” the young man began to cry.

Nuan continued, her voice crackling with grief, “But while you didn’t deserve this life, you made the most of it. You were doled out bad situation after bad situation, and _still_ created some beautiful shit. I’m sorry your immune system failed you. I’m sorry the system failed you. I’m sorry _life_ failed you.”

The young man took over, “I’m glad you’re not hurting anymore. I’m glad you’re not suffering anymore. I’m glad you’ll never suffer again.”

The friends looked at each other, their eyes throbbing and red. They then looked at Beom-soo. Nuan plopped the bouquet onto the body. Bent mud over it. Then hardened the earth.

“It’s like we were never here,” Nuan said, looking at her feet.

~

Nuan walked the young man back into his apartment.

The young man fiddled for something in his pockets.

“Don’t put another cigarette in your mouth,” she scolded, “you’ve already mowed through three packs since we buried him! You’re gonna run out of this month’s ration before the night’s through!”

“Don’t—” the young man was going to retort, but decided against it. “Sorry. It’s...been a day.”

Nuan hugged her friend, letting the young man cry and hold on for as long as he needed.

“Hey,” Nuan said, still embracing the young man, “if you need to talk to me, do. I’m a phone call away.”

“I know,” he nodded, “actually?”

Nuan looked looked up at her friend, “Yeah?”

  
“Can you stay? At least tonight.”

Nuan smiled at her friend, “For you? I’ll stay.”


	3. 109 Days Until the Comet Arrives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A group of friends watch television before starting their homework

Bao Yu, Mo Ce Prefecture, United Republic

“Come on!”

  
“We’re gonna miss it!”

“Lien! Hurry!”

“But my knees still hurt!”

The four friends stumbled out of the school bus, bolting into a sprint the moment their shoes hit the pavement.

  
“Hey, let her up front! She has the keys!”

Leading the charge: Ome. It was her turn to host the first of many weekly viewings of Battle of the Bands on Channel 3. Which was airing in three—no two! minutes.

“Ome, open the gate _faster_! We’ll miss the opening!” 

“Cool it, Myeong! The keys just got stuck—aaaaaaaand we’re in!”

  
Ome’s friends darted through the front gate to the porch, flinging their shoes off as Ome closed the gate behind her.

“Front door should be unlocked. I’ll catch up with you,” she said as her friends rushed inside. Ome was in no rush as she made her way up the porch steps. She collected her friends' scattered shoes, placed them in the basket by the door. She then carefully took off her own before going inside. Sure enough, Ome’s friends. Lien, Myeong, and Huiling, figured out how to turn on the television.

  
“There we go!” Huiling smiled, as the picture zipped on to the screen. “And just in time, too! It’s still showing credits for Tang at Two.”

As Ome slid the front door behind her, Lien approached, “Need help with anything? Setting up snacks? Pot of tea?”

“Um…?” Ome paused, “You can get some of the senbei from the pantry, and a thing of crunchy peas, put it on a plate?”

“And plates and bowls are—oh! Never mind! Found them!”

  
Huiling poked her head into the kitchen, “Need help?” 

“I think we’re good!” Ome smiled, putting the kettle on to boil. As she did this, her cat, Crunchy, rubbed his body against her ankles. 

“Why don’t you just firebend to boil the water?” Huiling asked.

“Because I need to give Crunchy his meds? Unless you want to boil it?” Ome suggested.

  
“On it,” Huiling beamed, cracking her knuckles before grabbing the kettle by its sides, rapidly boiling the water inside of it.

When matters in the kitchen were taken care of, Huiling and Lien walked into the den. They found Myeong sitting on the floor with Spicy, the dog, plopped on their lap. 

“She just sat on me,” Myeong said, “didn’t want to disturb her.”

The television boomed, “Don’t change the channel! Coming up next: Battle of the Bands with Yin Bo!” 

“Oooh! It’s coming on!” Lien squealed, beginning to dance in anticipation of the show’s theme song, still holding a plate of snacks. 

“Um, I thought your knees still hurt from gym?” Huiling giggled, grooving her way over with a pot of tea and a trivet. As Huiling and Lien began to dance, a commercial popped on to the television screen.

“Are you a young person with a great idea?” asked the calm, baritone voice from the television screen. “Then enter the fifteenth annual Future Industries Youth Innovators Competition!”

Ome felt her stomach sink as she walked into the den. She always wanted to enter the contest. Once she was old enough to compete, however, Ome never brought herself to call for an application. The ¥200,000 Grand Prize both tantalized and deeply intimidated her, sure. But Ome harbored other, more personal reservations about competing. 

The commercial continued, “past Grand Prize winners include Sopheap Yee, inventor of the all-electric calculator, now head of product development at Vitality Tech; Quynh Lam, inventor of the Hydrox, a double duty water purifier _and_ power generator; and Nergui Park, inventor of the solar-powered sail, and founder of New Horizons.

“Enter the ranks of the world’s brightest young minds. Enter the Future Industries Youth Innovators Competition. Call 466-682-83 for a free application. Again, call 466-682-83 for a free application.” 

As Ome finally sat down, she heard Huiling rustling through her backpack.

“Huiling, what are you doing?” she asked.

“You a favor,” she said.

“By....what exactly?”

“Writing down that number for you,” Huiling extended her arm, note in hand, in front of Ome’s face. 

“Thanks, but I’m not interested,” she said, pushing Huiling’s hand out of her face, “never have been.”

“Bull _shit_!” Myeong sung, turning off the television. “You have a Youth Innovators Poster in your locker!”

“You’ve been making gadgets since for _ever_ ...or at least as long as _we’ve_ known each other,” added Huiling.

“Plus, with you being eighteen now?” Lien interjected, “This is the last year you’re eligible.”

“Oh my stars, you guys! I _am_ interested! No! Wait! I’m _not_! I’m...just,” Ome sighed, then was quiet, her friends soon joining that silence. Lien moved to sit next to Ome, placing her head on her friend’s shoulder.

“What’s up? Seriously,” Lien asked, looking up at Ome’s eyes. Ome flung her head back, eyes to the ceiling. She wished she could tell her friends _everything_ she was feeling at that moment. As for the words she wanted to say? Ome was sure they didn’t exist. But she sure knew the feeling did, whatever it was. So, Ome remained silent. Her friends soon joined her in that all encompassing, emotionally fraught silence. After about ten minutes, the four looked at each other. Huiling cleared her throat.

“So, I suggest we can get back to Battle of the Bands?” she chirped, crawling towards the television set to turn it back on.

“Eh, we definitely missed a bit,” Lien said, “but it’s auditions right now.”

“The _worst_ part of the season, good grief,” Ome groaned, finally saying _something_ as she rubbed her temples. “They just throw in a bunch of bad groups into the audition sequences and hope to the entertainment gods it ends up being good television.”

“But it _is_ good television,” Lien pouted. 

“Oh my STARS!” Huiling perked, “remember Chen and the Cool Kids? From last season?”

“Please don’t,” Myeong grumbled.

“At least they didn’t make it to the final three?” Ome managed a smile.

“Yeah,” Myeong shrugged, “there’s that.”

They all laughed, then enjoyed what remained of the program before going off to Ome’s room to do their homework. There was no mention of the Youth Innovators Competition for the rest of their time together.


	4. Later that Night...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Korra and Yuka get an unnerving phone call from Asami.

Yushi Valley, Meigui Prefecture, United Republic

Korra and Yuka sat at the kitchen table after dinner, the former going over League paperwork regarding potential plans of action in the aftermath of the Jade Republic’s illegal annexation of Bai Sha, the latter studying for a history exam she had in the next few days.

“Hey mom?” Yuka said, digging out a set of index cards from her school bag.

“Yes?” Korra perked, nose still buried in an article.

“When you get the chance, can you help me study?” Yuka asked, handing her mom the stack of index cards. “I made flash cards. You read the question, aaaaand I answer. Hopefully correctly.”

Korra smiled, enhancing one stack of papers of another. She gave her daughter a look. 

_Ready?_

Yuka nodded. _Ready when you are._

“Okay,” Korra shuffled the cards, “after the Great Partition, the former Earth Kingdom split into how many countries?”

“Eight! No, seven? With the whole Bai Sha thing—”

“Let’s go with eight.”

“Okay.”

“And those eight countries are?”

“The Southern Federation, Oumei, Daoguo, Kyoshi, Xibei, Dong Shan, Bai Sha? Though that’s currently being contested? And the Jade Republic.”

“Ding, ding, ding, ding, ding! Next card...what was the Great Partition?”

“The split of the former Earth Kingdom into eight smaller countries.”

“It happened…?

“Fifteen years ago!”

“And who oversaw it?”

“You,” Yuka burst into laughter, “and the League. And some other people...”

“And those other people are…?” Korra pestered. “Come on Yuka, you know this. We’ve had some of them at the house!”

“Um…” Yuka clenched her jaw, then put out her hand to count off names, “...Suyin Beifong. She’s been over a few times. Lawan Maua. Hasn’t been to the house, though. Hifumi Nakamura...interesting character, there are still scratches on the guest bathroom floor from _that_ visit. Let’s see...Ubon Lee, who I haven't met, nor have I met Jingyi Yang, and...crap! Who was the first chair of the Jade Republic? Oh! Hanuel Liu!”

“I’ll take it…”

“...Mom, what do you mean ‘you’ll take it’?”

“You mixed up Ubon and Haneul’s family names.”

“Dang it!”

“Makes sense, you don’t _know_ them. But you wrote their family names correctly on your flash card, so you’ll be fine for the test.”

Korra and Yuka smiled at each other, then burst into playful laughter. How funny it was, Korra thought, that her daughter was being tested on things _she_ was instrumental in, about people they both knew (or in Yuka’s case, at least knew of). Korra drew the next card in the stack. Before she even had the chance to read the card, the phone rang. Korra stood up from her seat and walked over to the phone. She picked up.

“Hello? Korra speaking,” she said. But there was no response on the other end. Just breathing. Korra grimaced at the phone, hung up, and sat back down. Yuka, as if on cue, fumbled from her seat at the table, and started rummaging through the cabinet below the phone niche.

“Kiddo, what are you doing?” Korra asked.

“You reminded me,” Yuka said, voice strained as she was getting some things out, “that mama might call. She’ll be getting back from her work soon, and where she’s at is five hours behind us, right? Figured we’d bust out the speaker phone extension so we can _both_ talk to her!”

“Good thinking, kiddo,” Korra nodded. “Need help?”

“I’m good, mom, but thank you,” Yuka grinned as she clipped special attachments onto the earpiece and microphone. “Cool, now we’re prepared for whenever mama decides to—”

Of course the phone rang.

“—call,” Yuka pressed a button on the phone body, “hi, Yuka speaking?”

“ _Hello,_ ” there was no doubt it was Asami, “ _how are you?_ ”

“We’re...okay. Mom and I are working on stuff. Waiting for you to call, actually,” Yuka grinned. “How’s your ‘company retreat’ going?”

_Company retreat_ was their code word for Asami’s classified project.

“ _Going well, as you’d expect_ ,” Asami reassured. “ _Mom nearby?_ ”

“Honey, you’re on speaker phone!” Korra hollered from the table.

“ _Oh…_ ” Asami sounded surprised, but not in a good way, “ _Korra, I'd like to speak just with you for a moment. Yuka, could you...take off the speaker attachment?_ ”

“Not without ending the call…?” Yuka seemed puzzled by her mama’s request. “I can leave the room for a bit...it’s fine…”

Yuka crept back from the phone niche, tilted her head as a cue for Korra to come closer to the phone, then left to go to her room for a few minutes. Korra approached the phone, smiled (despite knowing her wife couldn’t see her), and said, “Hey honey. What’s on your mind?”

There was a brief pause, then Asami spoke:

“ _I have been thinking about the state of the world right now, and wonder: am I really helping? Darling, I thought stepping down from Future Industries was going to be a good start, selling the estate to the county, too. I need to do more with my talents and resources, though, and beyond consulting and philanthropy…_ ”

Korra was wondering what prompted this realization. But before she could add anything, Asami continued: 

“ _See, I am realizing that throwing money at problems does not always solve them…_ ”

_I’ve been telling you that for years, Asami_ , Korra thought to herself.

“... _The solutions to our problems also need more than words on paper._ _Being a mother reminds me that the best way to handle problems is through direct action, of having conversations in real time, of having conversations in real time, doing things in the moment. Our world faces frightening prospects if we sit and wait for things to work themselves out. And if we continue to wait—whether for funding, or for authority consensus—we take the chance of things getting dramatically worse. All because we refused to take on our problems as they arose. Darling, do not take this as a slight. Your example of knowing when to be diplomatic, and when to be heroic inform my new way of thinking…_ ”

Yuka walked back into the room at this time, unsure how to think of what Asami was saying. Korra raised her brows and widened her eyes at Yuka. _That makes two of us_ , Korra seemed to be telling her daughter.

“... _Also dear, I need to stay here longer so the project I’m consulting on now goes without a hitch. Before I say ‘bye,’ I want to let you know that things are going well here, and my help with the project is highly valued. And Korra, darling, remember this: I love you._ ”

Asami hung up. The phone droned for a while before either Korra or Yuka made the effort to take off the attachment and hang it up. Once that was taken care, the next few minutes were spent in a tense silence, as mother and daughter hoped readying themselves for bed would calm them down. 

It didn’t.

As Korra was about to sleep, she heard Yuka open her bedroom door.

“That wasn’t mama,” Yuka’s voice quivered. “Her cadence was off, her word choice was off, her _voice_ was off.”

“Sweetie,” Korra said, her voice almost a whisper, “mama is probably very stressed from—”

“That didn’t sound like _fucking_ stress, mom—”

“language…”

“DON’T _LANGUAGE_ ME, YOU SAY _FUCK_ ALL THE TIME!” and with that, Yuka collapsed on to her knees in the doorway, bursting into tears. Korra slowly made her way from the bed to her daughter’s side, sitting cross-legged on the floor, and cradling a sobbing—and deeply disturbed—Yuka,

Meanwhile…

Bao Yu, Mo Ce Prefecture, United Republic

Ome snuck into her mother’s office.

_It’s gotta be in here somewhere_ …

“There it is,” Ome said to herself, shifting the old album out from the bookshelf. She sat on the rug in front of her mother’s desk, thumbing through the pages until she found _the_ picture, the reason she always felt uneasy about entering the Future Industries Youth Innovators competition. Ome heard the door creak open. She froze in place, feeling as though she’d been caught in the middle of a robbery. 

“Sweetheart,” it was her mother, “it’s a school night. What are you doing in here? Everything okay?”

Ome remained frozen as her mother joined her on the rug.

“You found our wedding album?” her mother said. Ome swallowed and nodded, easing her posture. Mother and daughter looked down at the picture Ome turned to. It was of her parents at their wedding reception. Though surrounded by family and friends (Ome spotted her uncle making a goofy face at the camera), the young couple was flanked on either side by Asami Sato and Avatar Korra. 

“Funny story, how we met,” Ome’s mom pointed at Korra. “I had just gotten licensed to practice therapy. First day working with my license, I remember looking down at my planner thinking ‘oh, Korra. That’s a semi-common Water Tribe name, what are the chances it’s the Avatar?’ Sure enough, my first client of the day was the Avatar herself!”

“That’s so wild!” Ome laughed, more in disbelief than anything.

“Not only that! But I saw Asami Sato pick her up from the clinic afterwards! My stars, that was ages ago…”

Ome kept flipping through the album, drawing herself back to pictures with Korra and Asami in them. She thought about the chance encounter that brought those women into her mother’s life. Into _her_ life. And she thought about the competition. And she thought about nepotism.

“Ome, you can tell me anything,” her mother reassured. “Or not. That’s valid too. I do recommend you go back to bed, dear. It’s almost midnight. I love you.”

Ome’s mother kissed the top of her head, and left the office. Ome lingered, the album still in her hands. _Mom’s right_ , she thought, _I should go to bed. I have an exam tomorrow anyway._ And as Ome got up from the floor, put the album away, and walked toward her room, she heard the phone ring.

_Who calls this late?_

Ome made nothing of it, went into her room, and burrowed herself in the sheets. But as she was about to fall asleep, the phone rang again. And she heard footsteps rushing toward it.

“Hello? Yuka? Goodness, it’s late. Everything alright? Does your mother know you’re up? She does! She’s awake. Oh, I’m on speaker? Good to know….”

Though her mom was trying to be quiet, Ome could still hear bits and pieces of the conversation from her bedroom. Something about Asami? Being out of character? And Yuka being upset while Korra was seemingly unphased? Soon enough the call ended, and Ome heard her mother walk up the stairs toward her bedroom. Ome slammed her eyes shut, pretending to be asleep as her mom approached.

“I love you so much,” Ome’s mother kissed her on the forehead, “sleep sweet.”

But Ome did not sleep that night. Instead, she stared up at a ceiling too dark to see, and pretended that both she and her mother were fine.


	5. 106 Days Until the Comet Arrives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Korra lunches with the Fire Nation Princess

Yang Na, Megui Prefecture, United Republic

Korra was anxious about leaving Yuka at home alone, especially after Asami’s call the other night. But Korra wouldn’t be gone for long? Besides, Yuka was fourteen, she would be fine, right? These were the thoughts going through Korra’s head as she left the tram station. The Fire Nation Embassy called Korra the night before. Apparently, Princess Midori wanted to meet the Avatar for lunch at Sang’s Bistro, inside the Yang Na Museum of Modern Art. Why they—the Avatar and the heir to the Fire Nation throne—weren’t meeting at the safer, more secure embassy was Korra’s guess ( _Sang’s_ is _one of the best restaurants in the city,_ she assumed). 

Korra walked past the installation marking the art museum’s main entrance, hoping no one would recognize her. She made her way past the ticket booth and toward the restaurant without anyone so much as looking at her, thank goodness. As she approached, Korra noticed a sign flanked by two armed guards stationed outside the restaurant’s front doors. 

_Sang’s Bistro closed for private event._

“No shit,” Korra muttered under her breath as she approached. One of the guards took a handheld transceiver from their pocket, notifying the Princess of the Avatar’s arrival.

“Goodness! Let her in, don’t keep her waiting outside! She’s the _AVATAR!_ ” chimed the Princess from the other line. And let the Avatar in the guards did. 

Inside Sang’s, Korra was greeted by a hostess and...more armed guards. ( _How Midori of Midori!_ ) She was led to a quiet, curtained booth, out of sight from any windows and far from the doors leading into the kitchen. Seated and already waiting for her was—

“Your Royal Highness,” Korra addressed the Princess with a proper bow.

“Please sit,” said Midori, her voice breathy yet elegant. “And do just call me ‘Midori’. No ‘your highness’ this, or ‘princess’ that. We’ve been over this, darling.”

_Right_.

“I beg your pardon?” Midori chimed.

“Nothing, Your—sorry—Midori,” Korra faked a smile, then promptly changed the subject, “why’d you want to meet? And here, of all places?”

Midori wasn’t expecting Korra to be so _forthright_ this soon in their meeting, “Well I figured that, with the news I want to share with you, that you would...want to be in comfortable surroundings.”

“And what exactly is this news you want to share?” Korra pestered, her words biting the heels of Midori sentences.

The princess’s response was not as swift as the Avatar’s, but she eventually answered “It’s...about Asami,” she gestured to the nearby security and restaurant staff to leave them. But before Midori could say anything—

“Is she okay? I haven’t heard from her days and when she called me she sounded all cryptic and I was worried and I’m still worried and she hasn’t returned my calls and—”

“Korra I’m getting to—”

“And her voice was, it didn’t sound like her at all and I _know_ what my wife sounds like—”

Midori closed the booth curtains. 

“Midori, what are you doing? What’s going on?” 

Midori grabbed Korea’s wrists, then whispered, “Asami is missing,” behind clenched teeth.

It took every ounce of Korra’s will not to act out, not to harm the princess, not to scream, not to burn the curtains, not to move her body. Even after her wrists were released from Midori’s grip, Korra remained stone still. 

Midori shivered, “As you know, Asami was overseeing an important project at the Fire Nation’s Space Aeronautics Laboratory.”

“She said it was classified.”

“Classified- _ish_ ? Anyways, it involved technology _she_ developed, so it was appropriate to have her collaborate with us. She came in everyday, even staying overtime in order to guide the project to success. So people were worried when...three days ago, she did not show to the site.”

“Asami was staying with the head of the project, though…” 

“Yes. And workers’ concerns were somewhat asuaded when the project head returned, albeit uncharacteristically late—”

“But Asami—”

“Didn’t.”

The two women stared at each other, waiting for who would break the silence first.

“We were…” Midori gulped, almost crying herself, “...we were optimistic that we would find your wife by now?” The princess shook her head, continuing, “but this optimism, I realize, was...unfounded. While we are still continuing this search, and taking every lead that comes our way...for the time being, it is as if your wife—dare I say it?—vanished into thin air.” 

Tears began to well up in Korra’s eyes. She was too stunned to wipe them away.

“I, at the very least, wanted to be the one to tell you this,” Midori continued, “before the news goes public. I didn’t want you seeing Asami’s disappearance in some headline, or from a voice on the radio, or a big head on television...you said she called you?”

“Yeah,” Korra nodded, “a few nights ago.”

“I see…”

“Scared the shit of my daughter. And honestly, it scared the shit out of me, too.”

Midori slowly drew back the booth curtains, then snapped her fingers to get a waiter’s attention. The women ordered drinks, appetizers, and small plates of food to share. 

They did not speak to each other for the rest of their meeting. 


	6. 105 Days Before the Comet Arrives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> CW: Blood, Illness, Medical Setting, Medical testing, Sex-related content 
> 
> Worried he may have the disease that killed his late partner, the young man goes to get a blood test.

Hui Xi, Gom Province, Jade Republic

  
The young man sat in the clinic’s main waiting room, along with fifteen others needing to be seen. 

The young man scanned his surroundings, imagining why each person was there. 

One person looked to be pregnant, probably there for a prenatal check up. 

Another looked nervous, probably their first time at the clinic (and with having whatever ailment they wanted examined). 

Another person didn’t look like a patient, but an applicant, based on their mannerisms, dress, and posture.

As for the young man, he was there for a blood test. 

He heard a test had been developed to detect the mysterious _novel immunodeficiency virus_ that killed his beloved Beom-soo. This happened to be the only clinic in a 150-kilometer radius that offered it. 

Then the young man heard his name called. He walked toward the counter.

“Walk through that door to the green waiting room,” said the nurse.

~

The young man waited another ten minutes before he was called, weighed, then given a sterile cup to urinate into (“And when you’re done, place the cup in the cubby in the wall, then go back to the green waiting area.”). He waited neither ten minutes, then was led into a small examination room by a nurse he assumed was around his age.

“Chart says you’re here for blood work?”

“Yes,” the young man grinned, “for the...the _test_.”

The nurse nodded, then extended out a hand, indicating where the young man should sit. The nurse took his temperature, blood pressure, asked some routine questions. The young man answered as honestly and quickly as he could. 

“Now,” the nurse shifted his tone of voice, “I’m going to ask you some more...personal questions. Remember, all of this is confidential.”

The young man nodded.

“Have you been sexually active within the last year?”

“Technically yes, but...not in the last six months…thought that might be relevant?”

“Thank you,” the nurse smiled, then continued, “do you have sex with men, women, or—”

“Yes,” the young man chuckled. “Men, primarily.”

“How many partners have you had in the last year?”

The young man hesitated, then said, trying not to cry, “Only one….in six years...male...”

There was a pause. The young man wanted to apologize, but could not figure out why for the life of him.

“If you don’t want to answer more questions right now, I understand,” said the nurse. “Well, I have the test ready….”

The young man saw the nurse retrieve alcohol wipes and an empty vial, its lid having a clear, thick, hollow spike. The nurse disinfected the young man’s right index finger, then unscrewed the lid (“It’ll be like a light pin prick,” the nurse reassured), drew the young man’s blood, and screwed the lid back on.

“We will send this to the lab to have it examined. We will contact you via mail about your results, regardless if you test positive. And, if you are positive, we will ask you to come back,” said the nurse, now gesturing at the young man to follow him out the door. “My colleague by the red waiting room has some reading material that may help you.”

Before the nurse walked out of sight, the young man asked, “When will I get results?”

The nurse gulped, “Ideally, seven days. More likely ten or fourteen.”

~

Nuan picked him up from the clinic. Other than asking when he’d get his results back, they didn’t talk. She dropped him off in front of his apartment complex. 

Now home, the young man felt it was safe enough to read the pamphlets he got for this _novel immunodeficiency virus_ , and yet he couldn’t bring himself to read it. He plopped the pamphlets onto the kitchen counter, and noticed a page flap toward him:

_“33% to 85% of benders are asymptotic in the first ten years. Compared to non-benders, where 66%-95% showed symptoms within five years.”_

The young man was a bender. Beom-soo was _not_. So, of course, the thought flashed through the young man’s mind: 

_What if I got Beom-soo sick?_

His stomach sank. The young man quickly got busy making lunch, less to satisfy his hunger, and more to purge that thought from his head. 

  
  



End file.
